Thaw
by Jael K
Summary: Another Legion fix-it! Just a drabble. But, oh, I could see it going this way... (*hopes*) CaptainCanary, as usual. (Note: I decided to continue this. Twelve short chapters planned.)
1. Chapter 1

Another Legion of Doom fix-it! I can't help myself. I don't own LOT. Darn it. Unbeta'ed; all mistakes are mine.

...

"You think you can make her talk, Snart?"

"I'm positive I can." He's looking at her across the room, and while he looks just like the Leonard Snart she'd known before, his eyes are cold, so cold. She can't resist a shiver.

Darhk sees it and laughs. "Very well. Consider is a…reward. Have fun." With one more leer, he leaves, closing the door behind him.

Sara's been trained to free herself in so many situations, and even if she can't, to defend herself anyway. But they have her well and truly immobilized. And now he's crossing the room toward her, expressionless. She'd so wanted to avoid any sort of confrontation, to avoid making herself face what he's apparently become.

She has, apparently, run out of options. She takes the coward's way out: She closes her eyes, heartsick, unable to even look at him.

She hears his step right next to her, feels the warmth of his body. He reaches around her. And then…

And then the restraints fall away.

And as her eyes fly open, he kisses her.

It's just a mere brush of lips…only notable for what it means. What it means…

He's stepped back, presumably so she can't smack him.

"So, how's that for a stolen kiss?" The smirk is familiar. And the coldness is gone from his eyes. "Now. Let's go free the others."


	2. Chapter 2

So, after getting a few requests, I decided to continue this. There will be 12 chapters total, all relatively short, posted one each day.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He turns away, and later, she'll realize he did it deliberately. A display of trust. Or something.

Uncharacteristically, though, it takes her a moment to respond. She still feels like she's been punched in the stomach.

But somehow, she knows. He's back. Against all odds, he's back.

"Snart! You _asshole_." She knows there's more pain in the words than she intended to show, but she's still feeling too raw.

He freezes. And when he speaks, the words are nearly inaudible.

"What was that?" She hisses the words as anger roars up to go with the pain.

"I said, have you ever seen Thawne pull someone's heart out through his…or her…chest?" His back is still to her, but his tone is thick with distaste and, perhaps, something even more intense.

"I...no."

"I have. A few times now. I didn't want to see it happen to you. Or Mick." He makes a noise that might be a sigh. "Or any of the team, really. So I had to...pretend for a while."

There's pain in his voice, too, and it hurts her heart to hear it. But the last few months, seeing him working with the man who'd had her killed and the man who'd killed her sister, fighting Mick, fighting _her_...

Well, she has some trust issues.

"How?"

He looks back over his shoulder. "Sara, we really need to..."

"Damn it, you jerk! _How_?"

He's still for another moment. Then: "I really don't know."

"Not good enough."

"Sara, we have to leave!" He spins and now he's back in front of her, blue eyes boring into her own, desperation in them. He moves his hands as if to put them on her shoulders, but she steps back. And she knows she didn't imagine the flicker of hurt in his eyes as she did so.

But he takes a deep breath. "The only reason I'm here, you're here, that they're letting this happen, is that I've played the game since I started remembering. OK? I had a nine-month gap in my memory when Thawne recruited me. It was a job. And then...things changed."

"Amnesia? Seriously?"

He frowns at her. "I'll tell you what little more there is when I can. But we have to get out of here before Darhk returns."

She stares at him. "Did you remember us before you froze Ray's leg?"

A long pause. "Yes. It was that or kill him, or both of us would be dead. I think Merlyn was getting an inkling. That got him to back off." At the look in her eyes, his mouth tightens. "I did what I had to do. I always have."

"What if it'd been me?"

It makes him pause. "I don't know. I tried to run interference, a little, between you and Darhk. If I had to freeze your arm, your hand, something I know Gideon could fix..." He shakes his head. "I don't know."

"' _Ran interference_?'" And now she has a new reason to be angry. "Snart. He _killed my sister._ "

"Yes. And he'd like to kill you." The pain is back in his eyes. "Forgive me if I really didn't want that to happen."

"I don't need _you_ to protect me!"

He flinches, actually flinches, at her tone. "I know. And once I've told you everything I know about him, you can go for it. But you need that information. OK? Now, can we go?"

She's furious and she's hurt and she's...she's...

She'd mourned him. And then he'd returned, and she'd had to mourn the Leonard Snart she thought she'd known all over again. Now...now she doesn't know what to think, how to feel.

Karma, she thinks with a touch of gallows humor, is a bitch.

"Yes," she tells him coolly, "let's go."

He gives her one more long look, then turns away. Utterly exposing his back to her again. Trusting she won't stab him in it.

She wishes she could feel the same about him.


	3. Chapter 3

"So that's all I know. I'm pretty sure it's not everything." His voice is careful. He's still not assuming he'll be trusted, which is good, because no one's still quite sure if they trust him.

Even Ray seems uncertain. Having a leg frozen and regenerated, painfully, will do that, Sara thinks. Stein and Jax seem torn. Rip is openly skeptical. Amaya and Heywood, who have only known this man as an out-and-out enemy, are keeping their distance.

And Mick...Mick is impassive. He'd held his heat gun on his own partner before Sara'd talked him down, and he's made it clear that, although he's willing to listen, he's not trusting the other man yet.

Of course, neither is she.

They've gathered on the bridge of the Waverider; no one's quite comfortable with Snart here, but what other option do they have? He did break them out, did help them escape without so much as running into the rest of the Legion members. He turned his gun over to Mick; he even told the other man to restrain him with the remaining pair of handcuffs he'd used as Chronos.

"I have to think on this," Rip says finally. " _We_ have to think on this. If your information is correct...well, we're going to have to revise our plans." He looks uncomfortable. "Your former room is still free, but..."

Snart immediately shakes his head. "Put me in the brig if it'll make you feel better." He glances at Mick. "Only seems fair."

No one seems happy with it, but no one argues either.

Mick escorts the prisoner to the brig. Sara hesitates, but stays behind.

Snart looks back over his shoulder at her as he's walking away. She closes her eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

"OK, Blondie. It's my turn to return the favor."

"Go away, Mick."

She's stayed in her room since Mick led Snart away. She's turned away Amaya, who wanted to spar, and Jax, who'd manufactured some ridiculous and transparent (and sweet) reason to check up on her.

Mick, who has some foolproof way of charming Gideon she has not yet figured out, simply walks in. He ignores her response, just sits down on the desk chair and watches her for a bit. She continues to play with her rings...including the one he'd given her after Snart's "death."

"You told Snart to go talk to me, way back when I was in the brig here," he says finally. "He listened. Now I'm telling you. Go talk to him."

"And that worked out so well for Snart the last time?"

Mick snorts and shakes his head. "That was _me_. He knew nothing else would get through. You...he won't hurt you. That's really sort of the whole point."

She turns her head to look at him. "What do you mean?"

"He didn't start remembering the team until he fought you that one time, in '69 Central City."

She remembers. Until then, while she'd seen him as part of the Legion (the kick-in-the-stomach shock of the first time is a sensation that will stay with her forever), he'd kept his distance, focusing on the others. She'd chalked it up to coincidence.

In '69, though, somehow the battle had shifted and thrown them up against each other. He'd actually fired on her, but the blast went wide. She'd managed to close the space between them, adrenaline warring with heartbreak, and disarmed him, though he'd snatched his gun back up when the Legion members had fled.

She sits up. Mick nods at the look on her face. "He says he started remembering...things...after that. He wouldn't say which things..." He gives her a look she meets mildly. "...but the memories trickled back until he thinks they're mostly complete. There's still a gap between the Oculus and when Thawne found him in Central City. He's not sure how he got there, for one thing."

She's silent, spinning the silver ring around her finger. He sighs.

"Look. I did worse things as Chronos; I _burned_ you. Even when he didn't remember, Snart couldn't even bring himself to aim at you—you and I both know he's a damned good shot and he was closer to you in '69 than I was on the Waverider that day. And you forgave _me_. _You_ wanted me back on the Waverider."

"You were brainwashed."

"A little. Mostly, I was just damned mad." He stands up, spreads his hands. "Look. I don't know what there is with you two. But it was you who started to snap him out of it and it's because of you he's here on this ship. So go talk to him. Please, Sara."

Mick Rory never says "please." Never.

"OK."

"Thank you, Blondie."


	5. Chapter 5

She remembers talking to post-Chronos Mick through the clear, shatterproof material of the Waverider brig. She remembers talking to Savage.

This hurts more.

He's sitting in a characteristic Snart sprawl against one wall, one long leg tucked underneath him, one stretched out before him. He's somehow reacquired that damned ball he'd been throwing around so long ago in the hold, but he's just tossing it from hand to hand, eyes distant.

They snap to her, though, when she enters, and those restless hands still.

She sits on the bench nearest him and takes a deep breath, trying for some serenity. That's been in short supply for a while now.

When she looks up, he's watching her with an expression that almost breaks her, something rawer than she's ever seen on him before...except, perhaps, at the Oculus.

"Hey."

"Hey." He shifts a little to face her a little better, the expression modulating into something a little more guarded. "Mick, huh?"

"Mick," she confirms.

A smile briefly touches his face. "Did he tell you to stop being an as..."

"Ha, ha, very funny." But she can't help but smile back, a little.

They regard each other in silence. She knows her eyes are lingering on his face, but his are doing the same to hers, so...

"Mick says you started remembering after you shot at me in 1969," she says suddenly.

He winces, and starts to say something, but she waves it away. "It was battle. If what you say is true, you didn't really remember at that point. What I want to know," she leans forward, holding eye contact, "is what happened after."

His eyes flicker away. Then back.

"I remembered the kiss first," he says suddenly.

The air seems very still.

"At the Oculus," she whispers.

"Umhmm." His eyes close. "I thought I'd never seen you before Thawne recruited me, but I couldn't ask any of the… them. And it kept happening. A bar brawl, throwing someone into a jukebox. You were there. So was Mick. There was a song playing."

She smiles; she can't help it. His eyes open; his lips quirk. "Then it was the Vanishing Point. The ships." The smirk vanishes; his shoulders tense. "And 'me and you.' "

She says nothing. He continues.

"Eventually, I'd wake up every day with a headful of new memories. Mick as Chronos. Talking to my younger self. Lisa after the Pilgrim. The Old West. Jax, Stein, Raymond, Hunter. Saying a big, old 'fuck you' to the Time Masters, there at the end."

She winces this time. He pauses, eyes on her, then continues.

"That was it, really. After that, it was all there, I think…except for a gap between the Oculus and the day Thawne showed up in Central City to recruit me."

"Why did you accept?"

He pauses, then sighs. "Sara, I had a nine-month gap in my memories. I had no idea where Mick was. Even my safe houses had nine months worth of grime built up, and no one I'd worked with knew where I'd been either. Including my sister. I was _pissed_."

"And Thawne…what? Offered you a _score_?"

The scorn in her voice makes him pause again, but then he shrugs. "Yes. I was a crook, Sara. What did you think I was?"

Something there, in his voice…

"A hero," she tells him, standing up. "You were a hero."

"I wasn't then."

"And what are you now?"

She waits, but he doesn't respond. His eyes are on the floor.

But as she walks out the door, she hears him whisper, "I don't know."


	6. Chapter 6

In time-honored team tradition, they all take a turn visiting the prisoner.

After Mick and Sara, Stein, somewhat unexpectedly, goes. He emerges a much-needed advocate for their former teammate.

Slowly, but surely, they all visit.

They talk.

They believe.

And somewhat slowly, but surely, things start getting back to…a strange version of normal. Normal-ish.

Rip makes him go over and over every remembered interaction with the Legion members and their motivations both stated and implied.

Jax starts taking his video-game controllers in and passing one through the slot in the brig door so they can both play.

Ray is the last of the original Legends to visit. From the time he leaves the brig, he acts like everything between the Oculus explosion and the time Snart arrived back on the ship never happened.

(But the next time Sara visits the brig, Snart has a black eye. He never mentions it. Neither does Ray.)

Mick finally acts a little less pissed at the world again.

Amaya and Heywood are, perhaps, a little disbelieving. But, somehow, the rest have all closed ranks around their long-lost teammate again, Legion or no Legion. Soon, per a team vote, he's allowed out of the brig and into Gideon-controlled lockdown in his room, which he readily accepts.

Sara…wants to believe. Wants to steal a bottle of Rip's never-ending supply of liquor and sit next to the thief, passing it back and forth. Wants to play gin and see if she can catch him cheating. Wants to ask just what he meant by "me and you."

She doesn't.

She visits for a few minutes each day, for a charged, short conversation. She then leaves with most of the words left unsaid.


	7. Chapter 7

"Rip says you're going with him, Mick, Ray, and Amaya to try to meet up with 'the Legion.' " She finds herself incapable of saying the ridiculous name without air quotes.

"Yep." He's sitting on the bed in his room. Someone's brought him a desk of cards, and he'd picked up a game of solitaire as she came in. Now, he's just idly shuffling them.

She should have done that, she thinks with a pang, then tries to quash the feeling. "Why?"

He raises his eyebrows and his mouth moves in something that's not, quite, a smile. "Maybe I decided to try to be a hero."

In all the time she's known him, even when he was blatantly acting the hero, he has rigorously denied it. " _Why_?"

He lifts his eyes to hers.

"You know why."

The blue gaze is too direct. The feelings it evokes, too raw. She can't…

She can't trust him again. She can't care and then lose him again, not to death, not to betrayal.

She flees.

And she curses herself for a coward as she does so.


	8. Chapter 8

She's driven Gideon to distraction asking for updates on the mission. Eventually, after the AI's last rather exasperated comment (she doesn't care what Rip says, Gideon can definitely get exasperated), she retires to her room, sparing the others her restless presence.

She's lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling, when Gideon's voice breaks in.

"Ms. Lance, I did say I'd let you know..."

She's hopped down before the AI finishes. "How...how'd the mission go?"

"As far as the mission goes, the team has gained some valuable information. However, Mr. Snart has been injured. They are nearly back; I am prepping the medbay. If you..."

But she's out of the room, running toward the hatch, the unfamiliar feeling of panic stirring inside. He can't die, he can't, she's just started to think that maybe...

Rip leaps inside first, checks himself at the sight of her. "Ms. Lance! Is the medbay ready?"

"I..."

Gideon intervenes smoothly. "Dr. Stein is getting it ready, Captain."

"Excellent." Rip throws her an odd glance. "Sara, are you..."

But she doesn't answer, because Snart is there, helped by Mick and Ray, on whom he's leaning heavily in a rather unSnart-like way.

She's seen blood. She's seen so much blood in her life. Far more than this. But the sight of the red-stained bandage around his left shoulder takes her breath away for a moment.

Her eyes met his. He gives her a rueful smile...then curses as Ray jostles his shoulder.

"Sorry! Sorry," the other man apologizes as they start maneuvering him down the corridor toward medbay.

"The hell, Snart?" She hears her own voice in surprise.

"Didn't see Merlyn in time, didn't dodge quick enough," he informs her, tone remarkably nonchalant for a man whose blood is dripping on the floor.

OK, she can banter. Banter is easy. "The mere thought that you expected to dodge...what, an arrow?... says a lot about your level of arrogance."

"I think he wanted to make me shut up." He looks thoughtful. "I think he's wanted that for the past few months, actually."

"Yeah, that's stunning!"

"I may have called him a few things. I don't think he liked that..."

"You baited the former head of the League of Assassins. For what? He..."

"Can you two stop flirting just long enough for us to make sure he stops _bleeding_?!" The interruption comes from, of all people, Ray. They're both startled into silence. Mick barks out a laugh, while a rather suspicious noise emits from Rip. A snicker?

The rest of the journey to the medbay passes in silence.


	9. Chapter 9

"I'm surprised you're awake."

Snart lifts an eyebrow at her from where he's semi-reclined in the medbay, resting while Gideon oversees another blood transfusion.

Aside from bleeding copiously from the meeting site back to the ship, he's fine. The damage has been repaired. The blood is being replaced.

And oddly, she can look at him and breathe again.

"Arrows," he drawls, "hurt like fuck."

"That they do." She puts a hand to her abdomen before realizing what she's doing, see his eyes on her and removes it. "Hopped-up on painkillers from Gideon?"

"Gideon? Am I…hopped-up?"

"Yes, Mr. Snart, I believe that is the correct phrase." Gideon sounds long-suffering. Again.

"Oh, well." He's actually smiling, a little. It's always been a rare expression, and since his return from the Legion, it's been nearly nonexistent. She can't help but smile back.

She makes a show of checking the display with his vitals (good) before looking down at him again. "Next time, don't bait the former Ra's Al Ghul, OK?

"He's cute, actually, but I really don't like him."

OK, **_really_** hopped-up on painkillers. She bites her lips to keep from laughing. "First, I'm not sure what that says about your taste in people—and whether I should be offended. Second, I can't imagine _why_."

It's sarcasm. He takes it seriously. " _You_ really have to ask that?"

The meaning is unmistakable. She stares at him. "You knew? That Merlyn was responsible for..."

"Your death. I didn't at first. He mentioned it while I was still putting the memories back together." His faces darkens. "And Darhk. I thought about taking him out for you, but I figured you'd want to do it yourself. And I thought it was important I get out of there when I figured out some of what they were doing."

It's the first time he's acknowledged that he knows what Darhk did. She runs her hands along the arm of the medbay chair, trying to calm herself. "When did you find out that Darhk..."

"Not until fairly recently. I'm sorry, Sara."

"Not your fault." But she can't restrain the words. "I wondered how you could work with the men who..."

He grabs her hand, the shock of the skin-to-skin contact shocking her out of her reverie.

"I. Didn't. Know." He pronounces each word separately, grip tightening just a little. When she meets his eyes, the blue is even more intense than usual. "I didn't. Not until I started putting the pieces together later. I need you to believe that."

"I do." And, somehow, she does.

"Good." The grip loosens a trifle. "I…Tell me a little more about what happened to the team. While I was…gone."

He doesn't let go. She doesn't pull away. They're still sitting like that an hour later, when Mick stops in to check on the patient.


	10. Chapter 10

Between the information with which Snart has provided them and things gleaned from the parley that went sideways, they're ready to strike.

By team agreement, Snart, once sprung from medbay, is cleared of any remaining security precautions. He assumes without question that he'll be fighting besides them.

The Legends are back together.

They all know this is dangerous. This is... walking back into the Vanishing Point again, in its own way. They all know far too well how that ended.

She knows she'll do whatever it takes to take down Darhk. Merlyn would be a fringe benefit. She knows there's a chance she won't survive the experience.

She knows there's a chance he won't.

 _"It's the things I_ didn't _do that keep me up at night…"_

She stands for a moment outside his door, hesitant.

They never have talked about what he meant by "me and you." While she thinks her presence will be welcome, she can't be sure.

Oh, fuck _sure_.

"Gideon? Is he in there?"

"Yes, Ms. Lance."

"Can you let me in?"

"Of course, Ms. Lance."

Later, she will suspect Gideon of having a bit of a romantic…or _something_ … streak. Because when the door slides open and she walks in, Leonard is, indeed, standing there. Shirtless.

It's a fine view, and despite her surprise, she can't help taking a long, admiring look. Then she registers the expression on his face.

"Ah…I can leave? I'm sorry; I asked Gideon if I could come in…"

But he puts a hand up, stopping her, surprise turning into a somewhat rueful expression. "No. It's OK. Gideon…" The look he slants at the ceiling, in the abstracted way they all tend to address Gideon, is wry. "I think she has a sense of humor."

"I do not, Mr. Snart. All of you know this."

Sara can't help it; she giggles. The ludicrousness of the situation has finally broken some of her tension, and for that, she's grateful. "Gideon? A _little_ _bit_ of privacy?"

"Of course, Ms. Lance."

He mock-glares at the ceiling, then looks back at her, a touch of self-consciousness in his gaze. But he also doesn't move to put the shirt in his hands back on.

OK, there's plenty to look at, but her own gaze is drawn now to his left shoulder…and the slightly reddened, puckered scar left there. The Waverider's medical technology is a wonderful thing, but some things make a mark on you nevertheless.

"How's that doing?"

He tilts his head to examine it analytically. "OK. I was just sparring a little with Jax; Gideon wanted to see how it would hold up before she would 'allow' me to go tomorrow." His mouth twists; it's clear that no matter what Gideon had to say about the matter, it wouldn't have stopped him.

"And you didn't ask me? To spar, I mean?" Her tone is light.

"Sara, I wanted a light workout session, not to get my ass kicked. And you have both ability _and_ motive."

"Point."

The banter lapses.

Taking a deep breath, she steps forward, inspecting the scar, trying not to blatantly regard the nicely muscled chest in front of her with a little too much covetousness.

 _Stop licking your whiskers, Sara._

"Did it…how much muscle damage?"

"Not too much. Well, not now." He's holding very, very still as she examines the scar. "Have to appreciate future medical technology."

"Mmmhmm." There are other scars. She knew there would be. But the new one is giving her a chance to unobtrusively regard the others without being too blatant. "It'll fade."

"They do that." A little flatness to the tone, but he smiles a little when she glances at his face. "It's OK."

Greatly daring, she reaches out (cognizant of what it's taking him not to flinch) and runs her fingertips along one twisted white line. His indrawn breath sends a pulse of desire through her.

"I have a few of these. Arrow scars." She runs a fingertip very gently around his newest scar.

"Oh?" Barely a breath.

"Yeah." She takes a step back, then reaches down and grabs the hem of her shirt, pulling it off over her head and leaving herself standing there in pants and a black sports bra.

She sees a heartbeat of raw desire in his eyes before he tamps it down again, somewhat to her disappointment. His eyes go to her abdomen…eventually.

She nods. "Yeah. Three of them. I didn't survive the experience."

As she'd hoped he would, he closes the distance between them again and, meeting her eyes, reaches out and gently traces the marks with those long, sensitive fingers. It's her turn for an indrawn breath.

"This was Merlyn," he says in a tone so low she almost can't hear him.

"Sort of."

"He needs to die."

"I can agree with that." His fingers are continuing to draw slow circles against very sensitive skin, and she takes another deep breath. "Len?"

"Sara…"

"I don't want to go back to my room tonight."

The caress slows, just a trifle. Then, "Good."

And he's kissing her, hard, mouth moving across hers as his arms wrap around her, pulling her tight against him.

She's thought of doing this often enough, but she can't help being surprised by how warm he is as she runs her hands along his back and shoulders—mmm, those muscles-and up to the back of his head to better pull him down to her. The shorn hair is far softer than it looks, she thinks—then gasps as both his arms move slightly lower, boosting her against him as he attempts to even the height difference.

Or something. Breaking the kiss, she gives him a raised eyebrow as she snakes one hand from his neck to his collarbone, absently noting more scar tissue under her fingers. "Happy to see me, are you?"

"You doubted it?"

"Nope." She squirms against him while running the fingers of that hand farther down his chest, chuckling at his own gasp (and muttered profanity). "There's probably a better place to be doing this."

She nods to the bed. He raises an eyebrow back at her (shifting as her fingers trail lower yet—ah, yes, _very_ happy) and then...smiles.

She's pretty much expecting it, then, when he boosts her a little higher, and promptly wraps her legs around his waist. His hands shift under her; he steadies her against him and that...well, even still half clothed, that feels pretty _damned_ good. She leans her forehead against his for a long moment, hands on his shoulders, can hear the hitch in his breathing.

"Bed."

"Right."

The beds in the Waverider are not the most conducive to this sort of thing; they're quite narrow, although somewhat more comfortable than they look. (They'd really almost have to be.)

But they manage.

They manage just fine.

And afterward, curled up naked besides him as he drifts off to sleep (later, she'll learn it's the first time he's done that, ever, beside another person), she slowly traces her fingers over his heart, and smiles.

It's a measure of peace, the most she's had in a while, and although she knows tomorrow will be a trial in any number of ways, that doesn't lessen tonight.

It makes it all the more precious.

Closing her eyes, she settles just a little closer to him, and surrenders to sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

No one says a word when they show up for the mission briefing together the next morning. There are a few hidden smiles (Stein, Rip, Ray), a few open smirks (Mick, Jax), a politely blank smile (Heywood) and a look of faint disapproval (Amaya), but their teammates take it in stride. If all goes well, there will be time for joking and a little giving of (good-natured) shit later.

And then they have their missions. They knew their goal. And it's time to go.

Sara, of course, has been waiting for her particular mission for a long, long time.

After they land, she waits for the others to pass her on the way out of the Waverider, then puts her hand on Snart's arm right before they exit. (Rip, who was behind them, ducks back into the ship for something, and she's pretty sure he's done it on purpose, just to give them that moment.)

He turns to look at her, and she closes her eyes at the look in his.

"I have to kill Darhk, Len. I have to. It's what kept me going when…I have to."

He doesn't argue. He doesn't mention what they've been to each other, what they were to each other last night. He just nods.

"I have your back," he tells her, simply.

That's what she needs to hear. She closes her eyes, feels unexpected and uncharacteristic tears well up behind the lids. She starts to turn away, but his hands are on her shoulders, and then he's kissing her, a gentle but intense kiss that somehow conveys every word they haven't—yet-said.

When they separate, they lock gazes for a moment that feels both too long and far, far too short.

"Try not to die, crook," she says finally.

His smile is small, but it's there. "Try not to die, assassin."


	12. Chapter 12

Damien Darhk is dead.

She stands over his body, staff in hand, and thinks that she should feel victorious. Triumphant. Even merely pleased.

All she feels is relief.

 _I'm sorry, Laurel. He's dead. He won't hurt anyone else._

The Legion's...well, Jax calls them minions, so she'll go with that...are running. She can still hear the sounds of battle—the roar of a lioness a certain sign that Amaya is still on the prowl—but they're fading. It's almost over.

The sigh shakes her entire body.

And then, turning, she sees clearly why she'd felt a breath of ice on her neck not long before, just before she'd struck the final blow.

Eobard Thawne is standing not far behind her-frozen, literally, in place, forever running to a destination he'll never reach.

Snart had, indeed, had her back. And, fortunately, a weapon designed to be effective against a speedster. He's still standing there, watching her, goggles still on and cold gun still in his hand. His face is impassive, but she can't see his eyes.

She starts to say something. Stops. Realizes to her horror that the tears are welling up again and they're not stopping this time.

He pulls the goggles off as he crosses the rooftop to her, and the concern on his face just makes the tears come faster. He doesn't even hesitate as he wraps his arms around her and pulls her close to his chest, holding her while she cries.

Cries for her sister. Cries for him, and for all the time they've lost.

It feels like forever before the tears subside and she draws a shaky breath, trying to get a grip. "Thanks."

"Welcome." But he doesn't let her go.

She knows she should pull away before the others return, but she simply doesn't feel like it.

"So, what _were_ you thinking about when you mentioned 'what the future might hold?'" she asks instead.

The non sequitur doesn't seem to bother him. She can feel the chuckle through his chest. "I was still working on that."

"Ah." She hesitates, then moves her head back far enough to see his face. "Think maybe we can figure that out together?"

There's a flicker of emotion in his eyes, but predictably, it's paired with that damned smirk. "Sara, if we can make it through everything else we've survived over the past year or so, I think we can work something out."

She rolls her eyes at him. The smirk grows wider...and then he leans down and kisses her.

For the first time in a while, she thinks, the future looks pretty promising, after all.


End file.
